Practice Makes Perfect (When in Rome, #2)

by Sarah Adams

Seeing her bathed in light and surrounded by flowers from out here in the dark makes me feel like a man who slipped out of hell and is glimpsing heaven.

ANNIE: You’d do that for me? WILL: I’m quickly learning I’d do anything for you.

But the thing about quiet people is, we’re only quiet because our brains are so busy overthinking everything.

“That’s grief, Annie. And it’s okay. Grief—that mean son of a bitch—doesn’t have a timeline or rules. It hits when it wants. Even with me—sometimes I feel all healed up, and then randomly I’ll catch a scent that smells like my husband’s cologne, and I’ll lose it in an aisle at the market. It doesn’t make sense, grief.